HSM 3andahalf: Spring Semester
by Philemon
Summary: 4 months after HSM3: SY: Ryan finds some1 new who isn't all that he claims to be. Will Ryan be unlucky in love, or will the magic bind them together? Ryan/OMC Tryan multi-X-over. nothing to do w/ Jason. Just McSteamy fan.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in this piece save for the Zachariah family. This story is a major crossover of epic proportions including many throwaway references all the way to actual character interaction. Anyway, I am not Aaron Spelling nor Michael Eisner. With that said, obviously I do not appropriate funds for this literary abomination that has festered within my mind for close to two years. Do not expect updates as rapidly as they came during "HSM3" because I simply cannot guarantee them.

This _is_ the sequel to "HSM3" as I originally designed it to be. I don't care if people didn't like the "sudden shift to _Charmed_" in the previous installment. If one were to actually read throughout the story, they would see the characters mentioned from the beginning. It did _NOT_ come out of left field, I just couldn't properly fill the time lapse between the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Bolton and Troy living in San Francisco.

Dear Troy,

I realize that this isn't really a letter, but rather a journal dictating my life since you've been gone. No one will see these most private and intimate thoughts until it is in your possession.

Today was our first day back at East High after Spring Break. I was very upset to hear that Piper had taken you to Mexico, for the road trip to come and see you sounded like a hoot and a half.

Anyway, I guess that I must confess something, Troy. I have fallen in love, again. His name is Ephraim Zachariah and he moved to Albuquerque about three weeks into the semester. His parents are in the Witness Protection Program and he lives with his two cousins who both attend U of A, Ozzie Weston and Fulton Andrews.

He says that he met you in boarding school with his last day being your first. I guess I don't have to tell you that he looks exactly (in my opinion, at least) like Nate from Connect Three! And his cousins look creepy-celebrity lookalikes also! Ozzie looks just like Chad Dylan Cooper (**^**sigh**^**) and Fulton could be a stunt double for Topher Grace (**^**double sigh**^**).

He's really into acting, and the time spent together has cemented a genuine friendship between us. Oh, and he kissed me today, but that isn't freaking me out or anything. OF COURSE IT FREAKS ME OUT!! I will always hold a special place in my heart for you, Troy, and I honestly still harbor feelings for you.

But, you've made it clear that I'm not important enough to keep in touch, so I had to decide. The one who is with me, wants to be with me, and is certain that the world revolves around me; it is he that I choose.

God speed and best wishes,

With all of my love,

Ryan (xoxo 3 3 xoxo)


	2. Chapter 2

_Vroom! Live long and Prosper!_

I am startled by my homemade ringtone as I put my journal away. It's from Ephraim. I mean, Zack. He detests his name and was sweet enough to wait two months to tell me.

« I'm a couple of blocks away. Let's do something. »

I respond to the text: « wat u 1 2 do? »

« Hang at your place & watch RENT? How does that sound? »

« gud 2 me »

I walk to the front door to see him coming up the drive. Once he sees me, he starts to jog, therefore I walk to meet him halfway. He crushes me in a bear hug upon our coming together.

"I've really missed you." I greet while nuzzling against his jugular vein.

"Me too. By the way, remind me to set the T9 on your phone. I won't kiss anybody that doesn't text actual words." He responds. I almost want to tell him that I insist upon it myself, but I know how it irritates him so. Like I said, 'almost'.

I sneak a peck onto his lips and reach for his hand. "Do you really want to watch the movie? My parents are out of town and the hot tub just got cleaned." I offer in my best come-hither pitch.

"That's very tempting, but I don't have my trunks, Ry." He answers and then smacks his own forehead with his free palm upon seeing my eyes brighten. "Easy, boy. We're not even dating and you're trying to get me out of my pants. What would your mother think?"

I chuckle and let a confused Zack in on my joke. "She'd say 'that's my boy!' C'mon! I'm hungry and I hear that teenage-boy tonsils are a delicacy in Europe."

"Actually, I'm pretty hungry too. How about pizza? My treat."

I can't argue with him. He texts Domino's and we walk inside. I leave him in the living room and return a couple of minutes later with a pair of speedos in one hand and a pair of board shorts in the other. "Your pick." I offer and he gladly takes the board shorts.

"Honestly, I'd rather take the speedos," he quips, "But then I'd miss having you on display."

I playfully slap his arm as he pulls me onto the sofa with him. We just cuddle until the pizza arrives and we eat in a comfortable silence. That's when I realize that no one has seen me shirtless since Troy in Las Cruzes.

Oh, if this wasn't complicated enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Good Lord, that pizza is the best I've eaten in years. The cheese was just melted enough and the pepperoni was sinfully greasy. Between the two of us, Zack and I polished off a large and a medium within an hour along with three two-leiter bottles of pop and Zack even drank a Yoohoo afterwards.

I hope that's why he thinks I'm in the little boys' room. I'd rather think I have a bladder infection than a swarm of killer bee-butterfly hybrids attacking my stomach. All he could talk about is the hot tub and how he can't wait to have me half-naked and all to himself.

So, I change into the speedos that he so graciously left me by proxy, grab two terrycloth bath towels from the humidor, and some extra warm clothing for the cuddling to follow. I contemplate taking my phone with me, on the off-chance that Troy'll call. As I reach for the En-V I had just bought, I hear my custom ringtone once again.

« Are you sure you're feeling all right? » Of course it's Zack; he is so thoughtful.

« Fine. Just getting stuff for the tub. »

« Cool. I'm already in. I couldn't wait any longer! It's deceptively deep. »

I want to respond, but I wait. I don't want to be the reason he is electrocuted in my jacuzzi. I reach the patio only to find the recreational pressure cooker to be empty. I peer over the edge and there is still no sign of Zack. Suddenly, there are a pair of hands on my exposed ribcage, turning me about-face whilst I scream like a female, toddler-age, human cub (a little girl).

He catches my lips before my brain can comprehend what has happened. Deepen the embrace by placing my hand behind his neck, barely grazing the bottom of his hair line. Instinctively, I now realize I had closed my eyes. They snap open as my hand brushes a double braid-twist chain around his neck, just like the one on the necklace Troy had given me in Las Cruxes. He said it was a special design that his uncle, the one who forged the jewelry, used as a trademark.

I push Zack to arms' reach and he seems confused by the righteous anger plastered across my face. Directly below his collarbone lay two charms; one of a putter and golf course flag crossed in an X, one of a basketball going through the net, and between them are the creative script I had definitely seen before. It reads: Ry's Guy.

Oh, Bitch has some explaining to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey Everyone,

I want to thank all who are reading this. I'm sorry that the chapters are so short, but this is what I'm able to produce through writers' block. Please remember, this _is _how I intended the story to go since the beginning.

I hope that this chapter doesn't suck too grandly. Much like Stephanie Meyer dreamt the plotline to the _Twilight _series, this story has self-manifested through various daydreams and/or erotic fantasies. I've never actually thought about this chapter, per se; I dreamt of the last chapter and then going straight to Furious Ryan and he just gains the exposition found herein. I'm willing to re-write, if anyone's willing to assist.

Peace, Love, and Rainbow (giggle) Sprinkles;

Phil

"Where in the fuck did you get that necklace?" I ask, my eyes alight with fury. He subconsciously reaches for the jewelry and his eyes go wide with shock.

"Crap on a stick." he mutters under his breath. Then he studders aloud, "I-I-I I uh, I got it from Troy. He was so upset about being forced apart, that he gave it to me to give to you. He wants you to give it to your one, true love."

"Then why is it around _your nec_k?" I spit the word out of my mouth like venom. During our exchange, I've been pacing the length of our porch, in an effort to expel enough energy that I won't beat him to a bloody pulp. This entire time, the notion seems to become more and more appealing. I think I'll mount an expedition to wherever in the Hell Troy is, and follow suit with him too, after the untimely demise of Ephraim Zachariah.

"I'm sorry, Ryan. I got to know you, to make sure you're the righ 'Ryan' at East High before I gave something so sentimental to a complete stranger. The more I got to know you, the more I was hoping that someday you would give it to me. So, I kept it out of wishful thinking." He keeps one step behind me, and as he finishes, he tentatively grabs for my shoulder. I turn to face him, in reaction to the touch. He flinches at the sudden movement.

"But, that should be _my _decision, shouldn't it?" I query. In the moment, my rage had only lessened a bit. In hindsight, what I did next is completely overreacting.

I grab the main charm, the one with the words, and yank the offending article from his lithe form. As soon as said charm lost contact with his bare skin, Zack doubled over as if stabbed in the gut. If only that were the weirdest thing to take place.

As soon as the clasp broke, and the chain no longer draped itself across his clavicles, the form standing across from me, the most-recent object of my love, lust, and all affection, changed. Zack's face instantly filled out, his creamy skin and sinewy muscles gained not only definition and mass, but pigmentation as well. The soulful, rich, chocolate eyes that looked at me in shock, instantaneously morphed into the pools of molten silver ore that have haunted me my entire life.

I lose my balance in surprise and faint into his arms, "Troy?"

Isn't it funny how adding author's notes can beef up the word count? I knew that the chapters were short, but 1,300 words across 3 chapters? That's pathetic!

Now that the story is where most readers wanted it to be at the end of "HSM 3", I feel comfortable enough to continue at a pace which I won't find personally appalling.

Until next time,

Love, Amour, Amor, & oh-what-the-Hell: Orgasm! (tee-hee!)


	5. Chapter 5

I awake in my bed, all alone. I convince myself it was merely a bad dream. It has to be, right? "How else can my boyfriend magically shape-shift into my ex?" I ponder aloud.

There's a light knock on my bedroom door, only to announce Troy's entrance. I hear him set two objects on the nightstand which is currently behind my back. I didn't realize I'm laying in the fetal position until now. He crawls behind me from the foot of the bed and drapes one arm across my form.

"Please tell me that you'll still be you when I turn around." I plead with more emotion than I've ever felt in a single moment during my entire life.

"Shush. Let's just lie here for a while. I don't think I have the energy to explain everything, and you need your rest." He whispers into my ear and kisses the back of my neck.

"Je voudrais te dire que je pense que je t'aime, mais... j'en sais. Je suis certain. (I want to tell you that I think that I love you, but... I know of it. I'm positive.)"

Troy hoists himself onto his elbow, uses his free hand to guide my shoulder onto the mattress causing me to lie on my back, cups my cheek, and gives me a tender kiss. He lies his head on my shoulder and settles against my form. As I guide his available hand across my belly, he gives a squeeze and begins to purr like a wookie. "Je t'aime aussi, Amour. T'es le mien pour les siecles des siecles. (I love you too, Lover. You're mine for century upon century. ((( idiomatically: forever and ever.))))

This is how I fall asleep, hopefully this can be a repeat performance for the rest of our days.


	6. Chapter 6

Troy jumping out of bed violently shook me back to consciousness from my gentle slumber. I open my eyes to see a being that can only be described as a monster standing in the door frame of my bedroom.

"So the twitch is part fairy. Your demise shall taste all the sweeter upon my tongue!" The creature said in a voice reminiscent of a half-snarl and half-growl. He stands about six-foot-three and holds the appearance of a newly resurrected corpse.

"Eddie, a little help, please!" Troy yells, projecting his voice towards the ceiling.

Suddenly, a shower of blue and white lights, which remind me of the exploding bits of a firecracker, coalesce about six inches below the ceiling directly next to the Basketball Guy. Once the lights amass into an amorphous form about three-and-a-half feet wide and two feet across, a shower of light fell from it, appearing like the perfect amalgam between a Power Ranger's teleportation before they went into space and sight of freezing rain when spotted from a great distance as it alls from the sky. The shower then transformed into the corporeal form of my cousin, Eddie Matthews.

"Necron!" The blood of my blood spat towards the creature, his voice dripping with malice. Suddenly, he tosses me a ring with two gems of peridot set between a yin-yang made of white gold and onyx. As he reaches for Troy's hand, he hollers to me, "Put it on, NOW!"

I obey, considering the immense shock I feel at the moment. Necron shoots a bolt of lightning at me, but the ring glows and absorbs the electrical attack. As if from another room, I hear Troy and Eddie begin chanting.

In the circle that is home,

Safety's gone and evils roam.

Rid all beings from these walls

Save these witches three, now heed our call!

Necron quickly imploded spontaneously leaving a pile of ash on the hardwood floor. "Okay, we can't ignore this any longer. What the fuck was that?"

Eddie approaches me first. He sits next to me on the bed and Troy tentatively takes the foot of the bed, almost as if he were scared that I don't love him any longer. "Ryan, Troy and I, we're witches. It's in our blood. We have magical powers which we use to vanquish demons." I look incredulously at my cousin. "One of my powers is to see important events outside of time. Troy can read other peoples' emotions. Because our powers are controlled by our emotions, Troy can see what I see, and allow you to see it also. Do you want to? There's so much that needs to be said and you both know that I'm not the best at articulating."

I notice that Troy inches between my legs upon the onset of my calm demeanor. "Will it hurt?" I ask, causing the others to chuckle.

"Sometimes, if the psychic connection is very strong, and if the event is exceedingly violent, I can feel the pain. I've never been physically hurt though." Eddie replies.

I give a questioning look, which spurs Troy to grab my left hand in both of his. While gazing into my eyes as to confirm his sincerity says, "I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never hurt."

"You mean, 'never again.'" I respond as a case of word vomit. The pained expression that crosses his brow looks more painful than being socked in the gut, kicked in the balls, stabbed in the back, and having one's heart ripped from his/her chest all at the exact same moment. "Wait! I didn't mean that! I meant it as a matter of grammar!" I fall into a full-fledged panic. "Troy, please--"

"I know, Ry. But that's how you truly feel whether you say it or not. I just feel so guilty that I had to do that which I did. My only wish for my entire life, is that it weren't necessary." Troy cowers back to the foot of the bed, and keeps glancing towards the door as if contemplating an escape.

"Please, Ryan. Don't harbor any feelings of ill-will. I was the one who advocated Troy's disappearance the strongest. But again, pictures can tell a thousand words. Shall we?" Eddie comments while reaching for Troy's and my hands at the same moment. Once our hands connected, I could feel a sensation coming from both sides like a low-voltage electrical shock. "Now, take a deep breath and clear your mind."

All at once, I see key moments in the lives of Troy and Eddie's family. I see Melinda Warren burning at the stake, various scenes between Phoebe and Balthazar, and even the car crash that took the lives of Eddie's adoptive grandparents.

When we finished, I knew of the Elders, the Cleaners, the Angels of Destiny and Death, the Source of all Evil, and even about Sam Wilder. I open my eyes only to begin bawling like a little kid. Troy holds me tightly and I squeeze back in an effort to physically release the anger and rage that I feel towards the forces of evil.

"I'm afraid that we aren't finished." Eddie gently murmurs once my sobs loose a great deal of the violence they previously held. Touching between my shoulders, Eddie takes us into another vision.

I see people that I've barely met, if at all. We see a plethora of moments between Prue and Andy, ranging from high school until each of their untimely passings. There are also images of Mark the ghost, Drake de Mon, and Glen. Not to mention Cole, Kyle, Leo and Chris.

I rip myself out of Eddie's and Troy's embraces. "I can't take it any longer. I don't want to see any more." I scream in a sorrowful outcry.

Troy comes to embrace me again. With a soft kiss on my lips, he whispers, "It's okay. You don't have to see any more pain. I just wanted you to see why I had to leave; and why it is that I had to lose contact." I gaze quizzically to my lover. "My life is destined to be full of loss. Whether I lose you to death like Prue and Paige, or to evil like Phoebe, I can't survive if you die. I've already lost my parents. You're all I have left. I thought if I ended it, my pain would be less, and you would still be alive and safe. If the Legions of Hell were to find out that we're in love, there's nowhere we could hide. I hope you understand."

"Why couldn't you tell me? I would've understood." I ask.

"Even your knowledge of the existence of demons puts you in danger, Ry."

Eddie decides to interrupt, "Guys, if you need me, you know how to get a hold of me. But, They're calling." At that, he disappears in the same fireworks as before.

Now that we're alone, I pull Troy to the bed and throw him upon it. He seems surprised, but I crawl into his arms. Once we settle into each other, I declare, "I don't care. I'm not letting you leave without me."

"But Ry--"

"No! I'll buy a gun if I have to. I'll carry a switchblade. You can't leave me again, Troy. My heart can't take it another time." He kisses away the tears that threaten to fall.

"Okay. I don't know how, but I will keep you safe. You will be mine forever." Troy rolls over so that he's on top now. He rests his forehead on mine until I see that he's loosing consciousness.

"Baby, how long was I passed out?" I ask gently after regaining my composure and a comfortable silence.

"Ten hours and forty-six minutes. Why?" He replies.

"You worried about me for eleven hours? Why didn't you sleep?" I query while forcing us apart to look in his eyes.

"How could I? I was so worried of your mood when you woke, and also, I didn't know if you were okay medically. Once you woke up, I relaxed. As soon as I began dozing, that's when Necron showed up." His eyes are so calming, that I can't help but fall deeper in love.

I kiss his lips softly. "Why don't we go to sleep then." I state and immediately cuddle against his prone body. He raises his arm so it becomes a pillow for me. At that moment, I catch my first whiff of his scent since his return. Just enough Axe body spray, which I got him to start using because it is utterly delicious on him, and his natural musk causes my doody springs a little howdy against his hip.

"Uh, Ryan? I thought you wanted to sleep." Troy mentions as he feels my hardness.

I feel my cheeks blush, even without opening my eyes. "I do. I'm just excited."

"About what?" He asks. I can sense how perplexed he feels. "Do you get a rise out of danger that I don't know about?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." I smirk. Troy simply shakes his head and widens his eyes which causes me to explain. "I finally realized that you really came back to me. It just occurred to me that this is real. He," I point towards my raging hardon with my eyes, "is reacting to genuine excitement, not sexual stimulus." I smile widely.

"You know, tomorrow is our six month anniversary." Troy says.

"No it isn't." I correct. "We didn't start dating until October 4th."

"True. But when you broke up with Chris Keller on April 31st, I told you that I loved you and I kissed you. Tomorrow is six months hence." Troy mentions.

"Does that even count? You kissed the top of my head while I wept into your letterman jacket as we stood under the football field bleachers, cowering from a torrential downpour."

"It was the same day you let me touch you for the first time. And, granted it was merely in response to Zeke's dare, the same day you licked pizza sauce from the corner of my mouth. The same day that the entire school convinced themselves that we'd been fucking each other in private since before my break up with Gabby." I can't help but press myself more firmly against him.

"I guess we have reason to celebrate ... tomorrow." I answer and resume my spot on his shoulder.

With the arm on which I am not lying, Troy grabs my knee and drapes my leg across his. His own erection now pressing against my thigh. He pecks my lips and whispers, "À demain, Cher. (Until morning, Sweetheart)."


	7. Chapter 7

I hate having to internet-stalk myself to find that people are reading. Sure, that's the purpose of the Story Traffic feature, but how does that allow me to grow as a writer? I know that personally, I am less likely to review a story if there is something fundamentally wrong. Please, I really need input, and not necessarily praise.

A big THANK YOU goes out to Emeralden Rapley. She has reviewed four times, and is my sole reviewer for the entire month of October.

Happy Halloween, mere muggles!

Just so you know, here are the following fandoms already established within the story:

Fall Out Boy

Charmed

Corbin Bleu (as a musician)

Camp Rock

Sonny with a Chance

Topher Grace (as a celebrity)

As I open my eyes, I notice that my I'm alone in my bed. I cannot see nor hear any sign of Troy. I decide to try my cell.

« Nothing says, "I will protect you forever" like sneaking out at dawn. »

I readjust myself within my boxer-briefs with the intention of walking to the bathroom.

« Sorry, I felt like going for a jog and decided to get some clean clothes from Chris and Wy's apartment at the same time. »

« Nice thinking, killing two birds and all. Who is Wy? I thought Chris was still with Eddie. »

« My cousins Chris and Wyatt. Not Chris Lucas. BTW: he and Eddie broke up months ago. »

« Damn, I thought it would last. How long 'til you're back? »

« Six blocks. »

At the news of Troy's arrival to come, I opt for solely bleeding the lizard and wait to shower with him. I walk out of the bathroom to see him leaning against my dresser, catching his breath. My own breath hitches as I notice his shirt is unbuttoned and the crevices between his pecs and abs are glistening with sweat.

"You look good enough to eat, Cowboy." I drawl with the sultriest voice I can manage.

"You think so?" he flirts in return.

I can't put my finger on why, but suddenly my kinky side rears its ugly head and I can't contain myself. "Oh yeah!"

We kiss and I push him to the bed and disrobe him with a passion that borders violence. Once his shirt is removed, I move to properly worship his chest, but I catch a whiff from his armpits as he finally releases himself from the sleeves of his dress shirt. The pheromones cause me to hold his wrist high above his head and run my tongue from the bottom rib all the way to his elbow, passing through the pit along the way.

Troy uncontrollably mews at my actions. I begin to alternate between running the tip of my nose through the forest of hair located under his shoulder, using just enough pressure to elicit a reaction from the overactive nerves, and broad tongue swipes, attempting to remove all of the inexplicably clean-tasting secretion.

After adequate attention is given to both pits, I move to his abs. I find that he absolutely loves it when I eat out his naval. Next, I move to his knee, and begin nibbling his calf slowly making my way to his shoes.

I untie his tennis shoe. "As I recall, you really like this part." I smirk. Troy looks as though he's going to be hospitalized upon his eventual orgasm.

I finally maneuver the shoe off of his heel and am blasted with a new, completely erotic scent. I rip the garment off entirely and stick my nose under his toes and inhale deeply. Even through the athletic sock, the tangy scent is turning me on so much. I go in for seconds, but before I can, Troy's being begins to spasm and he moans like never before.

I'm not stupid, I know what happened. I crawl up his body, savoring the scent of his spilled seed as I pass, and kiss his with understanding. "It's okay, Baby. It happened to me, too. Remember?"

He kisses me this time. "Can you really blame me?" Another kiss as I'm conveying confusion. "I was feeling the both of us. I can't tune you out like others."

I suddenly feel really guilty. Part of me wants to blame him for ending it early, but to find out I'm actually to blame. Well, if I can't have an orgasm, then at least, I'm going to taste his toe jam. Keep in mind, I'm still all-gears-go. He gives me a nod of permission.

Once I reach the bottom of the bed, I strip his sock, followed by my underwear. I worship his foot with a tenacity I didn't even know I possessed.

I lick his sole, put his heel in my mouth, and suck his toes two at a time. All the while, I'm flogging my own meat like I caught it stealing a loaf of bread from a Saudi marketplace. As I place my nose under his toes again, the sensation triggers the grandest climax of my life. Amazingly, Troy is cumming again too.

We collapse again and he pulls me into his embrace. We stay there for about a half hour, until he mentions the shower. We spend so much time in there just touching, caressing, and fondling each other. It wasn't even sexual. But it certainly was passionate.


	8. Chapter 8

Okay, everyone! Here's the skinny. I know you're reading. I hope you're enjoying. Since I posted this story on October 24th, I've received 88 hits on "Senior Year" from '13' readers. To boot, 143 hits for "Spring Semester" due to '61' readers.

All things considered, I'm pleased with the reception my little piece of Tryan is generating. The only problem, is that I've only received four replies between the two stories in the same span of time. They were ALL from Emeralden Rapley! I haven't even heard from him/her since 10/24!!

Also, I was kinda hoping someone would've reviewed the last chapter because, I was raised in a strict, catholic household and I definitely stepped out of my comfort zone while writing my ultimate fantasy for your enjoyment. I know it probably sucked toe jam (lol), but, facing years of 'don't even think such things much less speak of them' I hope my effort was well-enough accepted for a venture into the importance of the story.

By the way, I feel ashamed at the size of my updates. They are insubstantial and pathetic. I have writer's block in every sense of the word, but my English professor is intrigued by the story and I get credit for using vocabulary correctly consisting three-or-more syllables. Perhaps, my feeble attempts to promote literacy are actually augmenting the vernacular... or maybe not.

Without further ado...

Eddie reappeared in the same swath of firecracker-lights I have learned to refer to as 'orbs'. He'd only been gone thirty minutes or so, give or take a piss break here and there.

"So, what's the emergency?" Troy inquires my cousin even before he has a chance to speak. "Seriously, who's the Big-Bad du jour?"

"None. The Elders actually have good news!" Our gentle giant exclaimed, bursting with excitement. "I'm getting my first charge!"

I immediately turned off the television, considering Troy and I had started watching _Latter Days_ after finishing our shower. "I don't understand. I thought your mom was the only white-lighter to get charges pre-mortem. And wasn't that only the case because she had faked her death?" Troy is on top of his game. Note to self: plant a pot tree by my twenty-first birthday. Second note: ask Aunt Paige about faking her death; this is bound to be entertaining.

"Yes, however the case may be –" Eddie did his best to explain.

"Stop it, College Boy! Just say 'but'. It's not that hard! Argh!!" Both of my company are surprise-stricken by the sudden outburst. I look at each of their gazes, shifting from my Lover, to my Blood, and back. "What? ... Oh shit! Did I say that out loud?" They numbly nod in an affirmative fashion.

Troy was the first to recover. "I thought Wyatt would be the first cousin to receive a charge. Not only is he the eldest kin, but also, he's got that whole twice-blessed thing going for him."

Eddie chuckled. "Funny that you'd think prophesy would play into it somehow. In all actuality, I'm getting the reward only because of my charges' destinies."

Troy interrupted this time. "Desti-knees? As in more than one? How can someone have more than one fate?"

"You misunderstand. There's more than one charge. Seven, I believe." He implored unto us.

We had a great conversation but nothing else was significant. The three of us spoke into the wee hours of daybreak. Our only discontinuance came in the form of a four AM phone call from my lovely twin in Paris, complaining about needing to fly back for graduation and then having to return the next morning in order to finish her final line for _Scenario: Catwalk_, the French equivalent to our _Project: Runway_.I don't understand how she's able to walk down the Champs-Élisée at two in the afternoon instead of being in class, not speak a word of French, and end up on a reality show airing throughout the European Union.

But, I'm tired and Troy's arms look so inviting. So, I'm going to leave you now.

Seriously, leave.

Do I need to call security?

Alrighty! It actually rather late and I feel a punch-drunk/loopy/lack-of-caffeine induced ADHD overcoming me personally.

Just so you know, I was in a dear friend's vehicle the night that I met her and found a note that said, 'note to self: plant a pot tree'. So, I figured it would be a nice throwaway joke. Plus, if she actually reads this, much like she has promised since I wrot "Finding another to Love in Twinkle Towne", my first fiction, then she will definitely mention it.

Second notion: I cannot believe that spellcheck understands the word 'kinda' but not 'spellcheck'! High-Larry-us!!

Updated list of cross-overs:

Project: Runway

One Tree Hill

Latter Days

I hope I don't have to mention this, but I totally made up _Scenario: Catwalk. _I completely plagiarized this. Technically, it **is ** my creation, but I don't want to claim it. So, if you want the rights and royalties of S:C, simply review and tell me so. If something actually happens with it, I may contact you for a bribe.


	9. Chapter 9

My eyes slowly drift open. I quickly shut them again, vainly attempting to return to dreamland. Sadly, I can't, so, I decide to slow my journey into the waking world. I can smell something, but I can't describe it. It doesn't seem floral, nor like any food I've ever eaten. It's just freshness.

I can feel Troy's arms around me still, but I can also feel something else. I realize that my bed has never felt softer. I almost feel like I could fall through the mattress, if I weren't careful. Through my closed eyes, I see an increase in light and hear the tinkling sound of orbs.

"Hey, Eddie" I respond, half asleep. Suddenly, I feel Troy stiffen beneath me.

"Babe, wake up. It's not Eddie." Troy half-whispers into my ear.

My eyes shoot open to see a middle aged gospel choir in cream and gold robes. When my mind catches up with my physical consciousness, I notice that we're in a grouping of clouds.

"Hello boys." One states in an authoritative tone. He speaks firmly yet lovingly, he is not condescending by any means. "My name is Zephyr, and we are from the Council of Elders. We here are known as the Founders."

Both Troy and I nod greeting to each of the Founders in silent respect and genuine honor. "We just wanted to warn you boys that your lives are about to change dramatically. We hold every confidence in you and your kin." Zephyr continued.

A while after, after being introduced to the ideas of witches and white-lighters, of cupids and guardians, and specifically demons and all the forces of the Underworld in a formal way, the Founders gather around us, ready to send us back to Earth. "Oh, boys," one of them known as Amphitrite states, "We need you to know, that your relationship is nothing ungodly. We want you to nourish your union. You have our blessing." With those words, my vision fades to a white and blue static of light.

"What did They say Up There?" Eddie asks as soon as we appear in my room.

"Nothing much. Apparently, we're two of your charges. They took the day to explain the magical world to us." I respond.

We throw _Latter Days_ back into the DVD player, considering we were interrupted, and finally postponed the film last night. About halfway through the film, Troy receives a text. Two seconds later, my phone rings as well.

"Hello?" I answer. The number looks like one from my dad's office.

"Hey, Champ!" Dad calls through. "I need you to do me a favor, Buddy." Of course he does. Why would you call me unless I had to do something for you. It's not like I'm expecting to hear him say that he loves me, or anything.

"Of course, Dad. What do you need?" I answer, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"The plane will be at the airport at six am. I need you in San Francisco for a press conference. It's a family affair, so please bring appropriate dress." Dad rambles, as if we haven't had this specific conversation half a dozen times before.

"Sure thing, Dad." I answer as I expect him to expect of me.

"Is that all the excitement I get? Son, this is your chance to see Troy. Are you two fighting or something?"

"Sorry. I thought you said San Antonio." I lie. I decide to play along and become overly ecstatic. "Will we have time? Really? Oh, Dad. I love you so much! Thank you, thank you!" As I say this, Troy begins to nibble on my earlobe. I fight every fiber of my being to keep from moaning.

"Absolutely, Kiddo. I'll see you at LAX in the morning, okay?" Dad half-chuckles.

"I'll be there with bells on, Dad!". I hang up and moan involuntarily. Troy slowly backs away, just far enough to look in my eyes.

"They need me back at the Manor tomorrow afternoon. I don't know how long I'll be gone this time." He explains.

I make up my mind to keep my trip from Troy. I won't lie to him, but intentional vagueness is not lying. "I guess we should make the most of what time we do have then, huh?"

Troy's eyes alight with a hunger not seen this side of Forks, Washington. We ravage each other with teeth and tongues, with lips and fingernails. We spend our entire day in bed watching movies, in the pool horse playing, and around the grounds wrestling with one another. Definitely a great day.


End file.
